On the subjects of reading, writing and Blogger’s transgressions

First reading -- I’ve been doing entirely too much of it lately. Blogs. Books. E-mails. Obituaries. Obscure napkins in my purse. School notes that tell me I owe money for THIS and shouldn’t be parking THERE and haven’t returned THAT heretofore with my John Hancock beautifying the bottom of the very important page, please see attached, Little Miss Lazybottom. Here is what I have NOT been doing, like my profile description suggests: Writing. My second novel, the one I nearly completed during NaNoWriMo, has been collecting dust in the corner of my flash drive. I don’t know why exactly, except that I want to put the DONE stamp on novel #1. But for all intents and purposes, novel #1 really is baked. It’s just not ready to serve, as I’ve mentioned 1,893 times in previous posts. (YAWWWWN) We’re only waiting on the finishing details now… the plastic wrapping, the twisty ties and sale sticker, the endorsements that tell you how fresh my ingredients are and how yummy and good-for-you this novel truly is. It’s tortuously slow in coming. Or maybe it’s just that I’m a terrible waiter. As in somebody who sits around twiddling thumbs, as opposed to that person who serves you ribs at K-Bob’s. I’m exceptionally good at THAT job, thankyouverymuch. Or was once upon a time… if you don’t count that time I slipped and wasted two medium rare steaks and rice pilaf mixed with nails and hair as a side dish, but I digress.

Anyway, I’m tired of waiting. Or procrastinating, as it were. I must move on to novel #2. Maybe I’ll even revisit novel #1 and a half in all its tired tiredness. Wake its ass up. It’s spring for cryin’ out loud! Who cares that there's still fresh snow on the ground and well-below freezing temperatures every morning. No more napping just because spring is dragging its heavy feet around these parts.

P.S. There is one more thing I still have to read before I officially move onto writing… how to change blog hosts. Maybe it’s just me. Maybe I am a Blogger IDIOT. But it’s getting pretty ridiculous when I can’t even post a comment on my own blog. The final straw was when Blogger ate my little girl’s picture. In one giant, slobbery gobble, her beautiful face decked in beautiful birthday gear disappeared. It’s beyond rude. It’s downright unforgivable.